


Survival Instinct

by Arsenic



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-07
Updated: 2007-07-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Bob's thoughts on Frank crowd-diving in Barcelona.





	Survival Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> Written for offonmars and adorkable37 in the Rare Pairings Meme.

"Um. What are you doing?" Frank asks, upon waking to find Bob staring at him with a look of concentration on his face.

"Trying to figure out if maybe you were too small for parts like an immune system and a sense of logic to fit inside you with other things. Like your nervous system."

"Blow me."

Bob considers the offer. "Maybe later. For now, I've decided that one of us in this relationship has to be unlikely to either die or get himself killed at any moment, and I'm scared by the fact that I'm starting to think I'm the best candidate for that position."

Frank rolls his eyes. "I just wanted to get closer to the crowd."

"Wanting to get closer to the crowd is when Gerard holds his hand out to people and lets them give him high fives. Throwing all sixty-some-odd pounds of yourself into a crowd is just a death wish."

"You're just pissed because I got my instrument out first and if it had been you, I totally would have used you to crawl my way back to stage."

"Yes, Frank, I am jealous of your guitar."

Frank blinks at Bob. "Are you really mad?"

The question is valid. Bob is slow to anger and--unless he's hitting people, which he really doesn't much do anymore--quiet with it once he gets there. "Pissed," he confirms.

"I just--"

"I looked down at the stage because Gerard stopped singing and you were _gone_."

"Okay, when you put it that way, I can see how it might have been worrisome."

"Sometimes, Francis, you're a complete dickwad."

"Don't call me that."

"Dickwad?"

"Francis."

"Don't dive into moshpits of a few hundred people who would like to ravish or eat you. Or both. In no particular order."

Frank laughs, then holds up a hand. "Sorry, sorry. You were just being so descriptive there."

"What I was being, was serious." In truth, he can see how it could be hard to determine between the two of them.

"I know. I know. No more crowd-diving, I promise."

"Or other ridiculous, life-risking things."

"I'll...try my best."

Bob sighs. Frank's talent lies in playing the guitar, not keeping himself on this earth. "I suppose that will do for now."

Frank grins. "_Now_ will you blow me?"

"Fine."


End file.
